Sink or Swim
by Von Uriken
Summary: Almost six years ago, aboard the transport Durandal, a young woman becomes a warrior. A short look at Fujin before the events of the game.


A/N: Yes, I have returned. For those of you who haven't guessed yet, or haven't paid attention, I've stopped working on my other projects to pursue one focusing on FFVIII. This is the story behind the protagonist's strength, what drove her to end up like she is at the start of my story. I guess you could say this is just a teaser or a prologue.

* * *

"She's just a kid." I looked up, careful not to move.

"So, she ain't the first kid, and she ain't the first woman. And she won't be the last." Two people had violated my personal space, but carefully checking my surroundings, I recognized the transport hold of the Durandal instead of my dorm. One of the two men I recognized as the Galbadian Field Marshal Pierce Cristophe, the second I'd seen at the start of my tour here, talking to one of the guides.

"None of those kids came close to fourteen." He remarked, shaking his head. "And just look at her, she's just a tiny little albino."

"Liam, she signed the waver. She knows the risks, and she don't look stupid to me. These… SeeDs… Are supposed to be the best." Pierce said, glancing back and forth between my supposedly sleeping form, and Liam.

"Well she isn't a SeeD yet, and if she dies here-" I shifted, and Liam shut up.

"KNOW RISK." I coughed, my throat stinging with the sudden words.

Liam sighed and looked away, he seemed to be silently asking himself if the entire world had gone crazy. "Just a kid." I heard him mutter.

"Maybe we should've been whispering?" Pierce joked, looking at me. His voice was rough, almost alluring, and fit his bulky form and military style perfectly.

I shrugged and sat up in my chair, glancing after Liam as he shook his head again and walked off. "TIME?" I asked, and rubbed my neck gently.

"About ten minutes off your drop zone. The Boss sent me and Liam down here to wake you up, and ask you…" He let his words hang, but I already knew what he was talking about. Everyone had repeated the same question constantly, ever since I signed up for this. _Are you sure you want to go through with this?_

"AM SURE." I said, nodding.

"Okay then, Miss. I still want to go through everything with you again though." I shook my head, grumbling, but he held up a hand. "At the very least it'll give Liam a bit of peace, eh?" I could only shrug and relent.

"Alright, you'll be dropped off at the pole just north of Trabia's coast. Normally we'd just our trekkers a t-shirt and a hunting knife, but for you-"

"NO." I said, shaking my head again. I'd promised myself when I started this that I wouldn't take any special help that the rest of the survivalists weren't issued.

"T-shirt it is then." Pierce relented. "Anyway, you already got the implant?" I nodded. "Good, that'll monitor your vitals for us. If you die, we'll try our best to come revive you before the damage becomes permanent. Other than that, you're on your own.

"Remember, this is the culmination of any survival or combat training you may have already taken. This ain't just a walk in the park, there are creatures, hungry creatures, out there. There is no warmth, there are no materials for making a fire, and smugglers have been using this as a base for the past fifty years." I nodded again, and rested my head in my hands. "Are you sure?" He asked, making a point to accentuate each word.

My thoughts varied, few thinking about the trial I'd face in less than half an hour. Mostly, I thought about why I had to do this, why a fourteen year old little girl would jump into the arctic wearing summer clothes, and everything came back to me being weak. I'd always been weak, as a child I'd been sickly, and all to easy too beat around. As a girl I'd been scared, and to easy to break by the simplest little comments. And as a preteen, I had even let someone take my eye and my voice.

The pain I'd had to deal with after that, the trouble that I'd put my only two friends through. It'd disgusted me, I was just the weak little girl that couldn't do anything. Never standing up for myself, never being able to help either of them.

It'd taken me nearly three years to tone the child-fat out of my body, to sculpt abs out of nothing, and form my puny arms into muscles. But, mentally, I was still just a girl, just a kid, still cowering in the back.

Now it was time to sink or swim. If I could make it here, in the harshest environment known to man, I- I don't even know what would happen. Maybe I'd become a god, goddess rather, or maybe I'd just be able to respect myself. I failed myself when I lost my eye, couldn't stand the sight of myself in the mirror, couldn't do anything about it, and my soul had darkened at that. If I could survive this, that weight would be taken off my shoulders.

Of course, if I didn't survive, even if they did managed to revive me, I'd never return. Probably just jump into the ocean and freeze to death, end it all right there.

It'd been almost ten minutes, and I still hadn't answered Pierce. He sat on the bench beside me, looking at me with the same worried expression everyone else gave me. The only reason they'd allowed me here, to the Adamantoise, in the first place was that I'd convinced one man that I had the right to choose which way I died.

I stood and took off my jacket, handing it silently to Pierce, and headed down the narrow troop room. Liam was waiting outside, but neither he nor Pierce moved to stop me. Instead, I headed up the hallway there and jogged up the stairs to the bridge.

Baltheir O'Donnel, Captain of the Durandal and head of the Adamantoise committee, was making a point of standing up very straight on the bridge when I entered, lording over the pilot, the only other crew member. He looked militaristic and commanding, an act I'd seen him drop several times when he wasn't around the survivalists he was transporting, three of which had been dropped already, leaving me and two others.

He turned and regarded me as I came over and stood behind him, lacing my arms behind my back just as he was doing with his. Baltheir had mentioned when he first met me that I was the oddest soldier he'd ever seen. My reply had been; _'NOT SOLDIER, SEED.'_

"You ready, lass?" He asked, and went back to looking forward. Stretching out in front of us, with the Durandal cruising effortlessly over it, was the beautiful north pole. Thousands of miles of white and icy blue, and that was just in my viewing range. While the inside of the transport was warm, I knew the temperature outside was constantly negative, frostbite and hypothermia would set in within moments. The chances of me dying here within the first several minutes were already better than the chances of Esthar winning the world series.

"READY."

"And you dun' want no special trea'ment?" Balthier asked. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but his accent was getting thicker with every word.

"WON'T ACCEPT." I stated curtly.

He nodded knowingly. "Alright then." He yanked a tube out of his belt, about half a foot long, and it looked like pure adamantium. It took me a second to recognize it as a knife in it's sheath, and by then he was already handing it to me. "This is knife. Name it, love it, I dun' care. Just dun' lose it, got meh lass?"

I nodded. That was all that really needed to be said.

"Good, then get outta here. Pierce'll be showin' ya the door." I nodded again, and turned to see Pierce waiting at the stairs. "An' lass?" I glanced over my shoulder once, but Balthier wasn't looking at me. "Good luck."

"You ready?" Pierce asked as I met him and jogged past, down the stairs. It was always the same two questions with these people, you sure, and you ready. It was starting to get on my nerves, but I nodded anyway.

"Alright." He said as we reached the end of the hallway just past the stairs. All I saw was a ladder that led up and down, up I would guess was the defense turrets. The large transport needed something to defend itself. "At the bottom of this ladder is the airlock. We'll be flying in close in about two minutes. Get down there, shut the hatch, and flip the green switch, when the light turns red, hit the crank and it'll drop you down."

I nodded, and started down the ladder. "Just be sure to brace yourself, you don't want to die of shock this early."

"AM READY." I called back up the ladder, but it didn't seem to easy his expression any.

I hit the bottom of the tube, the 'airlock' as Pierce had called it. It didn't take me long to realize that it was meant for divers when the Durandal was deployed to the water. It was a tiny little canister, big enough for maybe three people, with a variety of 'switches' and 'cranks' lining the walls. Cold too, nothing I needed to worry myself with so quickly, just a bit of a chill.

I flipped a switch that might have once been green, located neatly sandwiched between a green light and a crank. I could hear the wind whipping across the hull below me, but besides that it was quiet. Not another human noise, not even any footsteps or machines working.

I didn't like it here. Maybe it was the waiting, or claustrophobia, it just wasn't my element. But sitting there made me realize just what a frightened little girl I still was. The wind slowed below me, and I felt fear grip my chest. My will, my resolve or foolish pride, whatever I could call it, flared at that.

'_Won't lose.'_ I told myself. _'Won't fail. Won't die. Will survive. Will be… Strong.'_

I started dancing eagerly in the pod, pounding both feet up and down like I was jogging in place. Excitement filled me, and my fear ebbed away. It was like the day I'd learned how to swim, jumping off the diving board into the waters below. I died once that day, but I'd learned something then too.

The wind stopped, and all I was left with was the eerie echo of it's distant howl. A few seconds later I heard a buzz, a metallic vibration that signified the green light turning red.

_And now I hit the crank_, I thought, turning to where the red gear adorned the wall, looking innocent and clueless. I let my head clear itself of thoughts. Thinking was bad at this point, if I let myself think, I'd find just another reason not to do this, another reason to fail.

I pulled the lever attached to the gear without a second thought, and for a second the wind was replaced by the whipping of a rubber belt as it slid in place. The gear turned faster and faster, and I thanked myself for having the bad sense to be doing something so stupid, so absurd, so suicidal, that I would never be able to turn my back on my decision today.

I looked down, and the floor opened up. And once more, as I was dropped into the freezing summer's day on the arctic above Trabia, I thanked myself for finally doing something. Sink or swim, the me that I detested so much for being a scared little girl would be dead, from this point on.


End file.
